Note the wooden box below.
At the end of the last summer, my husband and I agreed that we'd scale the front garden back to what he could tend and the rest he'd just mow down. You know, because having an entire half acre (front and back gardens) was too much work. And it is; I could spend and have spent forty plus hours a week outside tending my gardens without putting a dent into the tending required, time I no longer have. So, my darling husband made three square beds and one rectangular bed back in September, all of which he never got around to tilling and I never got around to planting. And we've been busy with the things that life throws at you, and all those lovely seedlings came up, and well, you can see that soon enough, those four untilled beds will be hidden from view as the new West Texas style cottage garden finishes taking over the yard.
Maybe he'll mow it down, but if he does, it better be when I'm not home. Because chances are if I'm home, I'll run out screaming that I have a plan and he'd better not mess with it. I'm thinking right now my plan is to watch my flowers hide the wood of the boxes and someday, archeologists will dig them up and nod sagely at each other, "Ah, they had a plan here, but the land had other ideas."
In another month, this will be a riot of color.
Gardens are wonderful things for teaching you that all your plans can be for nothing. Nature is tremendous for kicking your expectations and plans aside and reminding you that your works are temporary things (kids are fine for doing this as well). These are humbling experiences that show you your place in the grand scheme of things. You are a part of nature, a part of the cycle of life, but with you or not, willing or not, it moves on without you. But in the meantime, it offers you joy and beauty and a breathtaking vista (also true of kids).
I notice a distinct lack of eye contact here, don't you? As if they just can't be bothered to acknowledge my presence. Sometimes gardening feels a great deal like parenting. :-)